What aren't you good at?
by gemstone1234
Summary: John suspects Sherlock is a natural at everything and sets out to prove it. This is a bad summary, it'll be better if you just read it and then decide.


_This is just something I've been thinking about for a while. I don't know if its any good so reviews are welcome. Updates will come but they may be few and far between._

_Unfortunately, I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters, the all belong to the BBC but I think I would take much better care of them at my house... just saying._

**What aren't you good at?**

**Chapter 1**

**Are you good at everything?**

It was all John's fault, and he wasn't just saying it this time. Why would he, Sherlock Holmes, want to be surrounded by a group of drunken police officers, with his body contorted into shapes which should not be humanly possible? Twister was a stupid game, completely and utterly pointless, as was this get together. Lestrade had invited John to go for a few drinks with him and some of the officers from the yard, the doctor had tried to persuade Sherlock but he'd refused bluntly, locking himself in his room for the whole day when John tried to debate the point with him. Unfortunately Sherlock had not counted on a slightly tipsy John returning at two in the morning, when he was in the middle of an important experiment no less, with a slightly tipsy Lestrade and five other very drunk yarders, including Donovan and Anderson. Sherlock did start to wonder if John had drunk more than he was showing.

He had no idea what to think when someone, he didn't know who because if he did they would most certainly be dead right now, produced a spotty sheet along with a piece of cardboard with a spinner on it. There was yet more confusion when a young woman, who obviously didn't know who he was, tried to drag him across to the childish game. As a consequence she had a nasty bruise on her cheek that she would not remember getting the next day.

"Come on Sherlock!" shouted John, with a can of beer in one hand and the spinner in another. "Come and play twister, its good fun."

"I was having good fun John until you showed a raucous crowd into our flat; this is quite the opposite of 'good fun.' Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to retreat into my room and only leave when you're new friends have lost." Sherlock began to walk away when John's voice stopped him.

"No Sherlock, you can't go."

"And why is that? I am still, in fact, quite capable of walking." An evil grin spread across John's face.

"You can't because you haven't played twister yet. Have you ever even played this in your life?"

"No, and I'm not one to break a habit." At that moment Anderson popped up from seemingly nowhere.

"Is poor Sherlock scared?" he asked mockingly. "I'll play John; I'm not scared of enjoying myself. Doesn't matter, Sherlock would lose anyway."

"Would not," came the instant reply from the detective.

"Come on Sherlock, just play the damn game."

"Why should I?" asked Sherlock suddenly confused.

"Because if you don't I'm taking this raucous crowd here every night. If you do I'll help you carry out your plan to make Mycroft break his diet. Plus, you'll have the opportunity to make Anderson look like an idiot." A grin spread across the detective's face.

"That's not hard. So, how long do these games last?"

"Normally five minutes, perhaps ten at most."

And that is how Sherlock ended up in the giant human knot. Despite never having played the game before he won, somehow managing to make all the other players collapse on top of each other, with Anderson at the bottom.

It was two in the afternoon before John emerged from his bedroom with a pounding head-ache. Sherlock was sat in the spot at the kitchen table he had been occupying before John and co. disrupted his evening. At least he's managed to annoy Anderson; that made everything worth it. "Are you sure you've never played twister Sherlock?" the doctor asked suddenly. Sherlock nodded, completely absorbed by the chemical dripping slowly from the burette into a flask. "So are you good at literally everything, because I don't think I've ever seen you not be naturally good at something."

"Everyone has something that they cannot do John."

"Oh, and what is it you can't do then?"

"Don't know, science is yet to discover it." John smiled gently, deciding there and then he was going to find something Sherlock was not naturally good at.


End file.
